


the way you still say please

by Keitorin



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Biting, Breathplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Power Play, Rape Fantasy, Rape Role-play, Roleplay, Romance, Rough Sex, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keitorin/pseuds/Keitorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair is a farm hand lodging in a cabin before he heads off to Denerim to look for work. However, an unpleasant surprise has other plans for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the way you still say please

The grass was dewy from the night and squeaked under Alistair’s boots. He picked up a piece of wood, checking it over to make sure it was dry enough to use. When he was satisfied with it, he looked for the next piece.

He would need enough to last for at least two nights, if he was to leave the day after the next.

All he had brought from home was a pack of the very basics - food, a change of clothes, a box of matches, a knife. He didn’t really own much in the first place. His life until then had been devoted to helping his family out on the farm.

However, things had gotten bad as the darkspawn threat grew worse, and people were too busy watching after their own hides and assets to trade with them. That, or they were dead. So Alistair had agreed to set off and find some work to bring in income.

The cabin he was staying in belonged to a cousin who wasn’t using it. Alistair would be leaving for Denerim soon, but it was good shelter until then. It hadn’t been used in a while though, so Alistair had gone out to gather some firewood after cleaning it up a bit.

Alistair looked down at the basket of wood he’d collected so far.

“Surely this is enough.” He mused aloud. After a moment of staring and debating, he bit his lip and started looking again. “Well, a little more can’t hurt. It could get really cold tonight…”

After fifteen minutes more, however, no more wood would fit into the basket.

“Off we go, I guess.” Alistair headed off in the direction of the cabin. He walked slowly, gazing around at the trees, the ground, the sky, listened to the wind, and occasionally stopped to take a closer look at something that caught his eye.

Midway, he stopped in the middle of a clearing and just stood there, gaze distant as he thought of something. Suddenly, his face was flooded with color. After a moment he shook his head and scrubbed at his cheeks.

Now was not the time be thinking of naughty things. He had work to do, a family to support. He would find someone to permanently share his life and bed with… _some_ day.

Alistair started off again at a slightly more brisk pace.

A few minutes later he came in sight of the cabin. He walked steadily up to the door, but seemed to hesitate a moment. He stomped his feet on the small porch to knock off any dirt and grass that might have clung to his boots. Then he grasped the knob firmly and pushed the door in.

Alistair picked the basket of wood up, then stepped into the cabin. He had left the windows open before leaving to let some of the trapped in heat out, and it seemed to have cooled down inside.

He carried the basket over to the fireplace and bent down to set it on the floor. He’d already cleaned the fireplace out already, so it was set to go. He was getting a bit hungry, maybe he should…

Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind. He struggled on instinct, trying to get away from the hold, but he was thrown down on the ground. He rolled onto his back and managed to catch a glimpse of a lightly armored man and golden hair flashing through the air before he was pushed back onto his stomach and the weight of the other settled on his back. He tried to buck, but his head was yanked back by the hair and he froze immediately as a dagger flashed into his line of sight, then placed under his chin. Alistair imagined that if he swallowed, it would cut right into him.

“Shh, shh. There’s a good boy. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. What do you say?” The voice purred in a familiar accent. Antivan. Alistair had heard that Antiva was known for their assassins. Alistair was a nobody though, what would one want with him?

The dagger was moved away just enough for Alistair to swallow and respond.

“Who…who are you? What do you want? I don’t have any money or anything…”

“Ah ah ah, that’s not what I asked. I just want to know if I’m going to have to bring out the rope or if we can get along for a while. I don’t mind, either way.” Alistair felt the man shrug.

Alistair bit his lip. He had a feeling about where this was going, and he didn’t like it one bit. He must have tensed up, because the dagger returned, but this time close enough to nick him. He felt the sting of the cut, but no blood. _Yet_. The man leaned forward over his back, hair tickling Alistair’s shoulders and neck.

“Cooperate, and you might even enjoy yourself. Struggle, and only _I_ will enjoy myself.”

Alistair waged an internal war with himself. If he struggled, would the man really kill him? Alistair was no fighter, but surely if he could just get away for one moment… He thought of the knife in his pack.

If he _didn’t_ struggle, and just accepted whatever the man wanted with him…

“Do not imagine that you will be saved by some hero at the last minute.” The man purred. “Such fairy-tales do not exist. I have you in my grasp now. I know you are not expecting anyone. I have been watching you since you set off. It is just you and I here, now.”

Alistair shuddered as the man spoke close to his ear, his lips brushing against it.

“Do you surrender?”

“Yes.” Alistair whispered.

He _wasn’t_ surrendering though. He would wait for his moment.

The other man chuckled. “Good. I’m too good at what I do to believe you really mean it, but that is good enough for now.”

Then the dagger was gone, and the weight lifted off his back as well as the grip on his head. Before he could make any move though, hands gripped the waistband of his trousers and yanked them down, causing Alistair to yelp and clutch at the floor.

“No!” He shouted, trying to scoot away, but a hand pushed him firmly back down onto the ground.

“Come now; is this your definition of surrendering? Am I going to have to get the rope out after all?” The man still spoke in a silky tone, but there was now a hint of menace that made Alistair involuntarily shiver.

Alistair slowly shook his head.

“Good boy.”

His trousers were pulled down to his boots and his shirt was pulled up and over his head. Then there was silence but for the man’s calm breathing and Alistair’s erratic near-gasps. The man shifted until he was straddling his legs.

Alistair jumped as a hand settled on the middle of his back. It trailed firmly downward, tracing a brand of heat down his spine, until it ran over his buttocks and left his body. Alistair could feel the heat in his face and neck, and his muscles trembling in his arms, his legs, his thighs.

He was no virgin, but he had never been with a man before. It didn’t help that he felt - no, _was_ , completely exposed to other man’s gaze.

Suddenly, he smelled a flowery scent, something familiar but his overstimulated brain couldn’t pick out what it was. That was all the warning he got before two fingers were pushed into him. His muscles instinctively clenched around the intrusion. The fingers didn’t falter as they started to thrust into him, and Alistair was torn between mortification and shock.

Then he forgot either feeling as intense pleasure shot through him. He couldn’t hold in his gasp.

Just as quickly as they’d entered, they were gone, but then something bigger was pressed against his hole. It was pushed in past the ring of muscle and seated into him before he could utter any protest.

“You should remember to breath.” The man gripped his hips firmly, before he pulled out nearly all the way and thrust back in. Alistair gripped the floor as his body rocked forward with the motion. The pace was kept steady and slow. Somehow that made it much worse for Alistair. He didn’t want it to be nice, he wanted there to be no doubt that he hadn’t wanted it. That he _didn’t_ want it.

He crawled forward, trying to get up onto his elbows and knees to stand, or at least get into a better position to fight the other man. There was a hiss from behind him, and then his head rang as the butt of the dagger came down on it. It kept him dazed for long enough that the man was able to push him back down.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked it rough.” The man growled. “Well, I won’t bring out the ropes just yet but I can accommodate that.”

His head was pushed down into the carpet, his legs forcefully pulled apart, and the man’s cock drove back into him, causing him to yell out at the sudden intrusion.

The man didn’t pull out any stops. He thrust into Alistair relentlessly, changing the angle enough to hit that spot that sent sparks up in his vision, and Alistair tried to bite his lip to keep himself quiet. He had never felt such pleasure in his life - not with the women, nor with himself.

He was able to keep quiet until he felt something soft on his neck, and he’d barely registered it as a pair of lips when they opened and sharp teeth sunk into the back of his neck. He arched up with a choked sound.

“Maker, oh Maker _please_.” He sobbed, licking at his bitten lips.

“Please what?” The man purred against his neck, and Alistair would have wondered how the man was keeping his breathing so even if he wasn’t too busy just trying to catch his own.

Alistair refused to say anything, because he was afraid of what come out.

“You _are_ stubborn, aren’t you?” The pace slowed suddenly, but the man didn’t stop hitting that spot, teasing little brushes that made Alistair see stars. He groaned and unconsciously ground backwards.

“Do you perhaps…want _more_?” The man pressed hard into him. Alistair trembled and _tried_ not to just start babbling and never stop, _tried_ to reign himself in…

“Please,” He choked out.

“Yes?”

“Don’t _stop_.” He groaned out, grinding backwards into the body behind him. He thought he heard a gasp and groan in response.

There were no more words after that, just the sounds of skin meeting skin, heavy breathing and sounds of pleasure.

Alistair felt his orgasm building up throughout his whole body, but some part of him still refused to touch himself, as if that would be the final surrender.

“Touch yourself.” The man told him, as if he’d picked the thought right up, and for the first time, he sounded shaken by what was happening. His thrusts were becoming a bit erratic. He was close to coming too.

Alistair shook his head obstinately.

“Stubborn.” The man said with a breathy chuckle, and his hands were gone from Alistair’s hips and placed around his neck. Alistair froze as they tightened around it, applying enough pressure to start to cut off his air supply. He struggled weakly.

“Now.” The man ordered, and Alistair managed to get a hand under himself to wrap around his cock. He was so hard it nearly hurt to touch, and wet with pre-come. He moaned and bucked into his fist.

“Was that so hard?” The man chuckled briefly at his own pun, hands still pressing, squeezing.

The combination of the man rocking into him, him rocking into his own fist, and the euphoria fogging his brain, caused him to finally let go, spilling over his fist and onto the floor with a drawn out moan. The hands disappeared from his neck and returned to his hips as the man redoubled his efforts.

Soon, the man groaned and followed suit, spilling into him.

Alistair slumped exhausted on the floor in a puddle of his own come as the man pulled out of him. He was afraid to look behind him to see who the man who had assaulted him was. Part of him wanted to remember his face for revenge, but the other half wanted to forget it as if this had never happened.

“Well, that was better than I was expecting, even without the rope.” His shirt landed on the floor by his head, stained with come and oil. “Maybe I will see you again sometime, yes?”

Only then did Alistair turn his head to look at the man, but he was already turning on his heel and leaving. Alistair caught a glimpse of pointed ears.

The door creaked shut behind him, leaving nothing but silence.

Alistair lay there for a while, before slowly gathering himself up onto his knees. He reached over and grabbed the ruined shirt, wiping the come off from his stomach and from between his legs, before wiping down the floor and throwing the shirt over by the fireplace. He pulled up his trousers.

Alistair took a deep breath, walked over to the door and pushed it back open.

Zevran immediately stepped in and into his open arms.

They didn’t speak at first, just held each other, Alistair grasping onto the elf’s hair and Zevran just letting himself be held.

They pulled back simultaneously and moved back into the cabin, walking over to sit on the couch.

“Are you alright?” Zevran questioned.

Alistair gave it some thought. Physically, he felt great. Exhausted, but in that ‘just had mind-blowing sex’ way and not the ‘just fought one hundred darkspawn’ way. He had a feeling he’d be a bit sore tomorrow from the struggling, but nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.

Mentally? He replayed the scene in his head. Being attacked, forced down onto the ground, given an ultimatum between death or assault. Being ‘forced’ to like it. To touch himself. Being choked.

By _Zevran_.

If it had been anyone else, he couldn’t say how he would be feeling right now. Zevran was a professional killer, and his skills as a lover came as part of that package, but Alistair trusted him more than anyone else besides the Warden. They had fought together, bled together, saved one another’s lives more times than they could count. Gone through so many trials to get this far in their relationship. It hadn’t been easy. It had taken some time to learn how to trust the assassin, just as he knew it had taken the other man some time to come around to the idea of the commitment. Trust had not come easy, but they had built it up, moment by moment, day by day, conversation by conversation.

There had been one aspect that had always been hard for Alistair to get past, and that was sex. It had taken time and a lot of convincing from Zevran that sex (particularly between men) wasn’t shameful, that fantasies were not a sin, much less that wanting to be hurt wasn’t completely and utterly insane. That they had come to the point where they could play out a scene like this without Alistair freaking out was a true sign of how far they had come.

“I’m great!” Alistair smiled widely, and leaned over to kiss his lover. It lingered for a few minutes before they pulled back. “What about you?”

“Always.” Zevran chuckled, reaching up to clasp his hand around Alistair’s neck.

“I am really glad there’s a hot spring here, I’m definitely going to need it.” Alistair admitted.

“I as well. You struggled beautifully.” Zevran’s fingers curled at the nape of his neck, into the short hairs there. His thumb stroked lightly against the bite wound. Alistair shivered.

Alistair leaned forward again to quiet his lover, blushing at the compliment.

They would talk later, but for now they would relax and enjoy the time they had left alone together before they had to go back to reality.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Nickelback’s ‘Figured You Out’.
> 
>  
> 
> _I like your pants around your feet  
>  And I like the dirt that's on your knees  
> And I like the way you still say please  
> While you're looking up at me  
> You're like my favorite damn disease_


End file.
